Chapter 26
November: 3,390 BC
Earth: Village of Assur
MIKHAIL
He drifted, neither here nor there as his fever rose and fell, hot, then cold, hot, then cold. One minute he burned so badly it felt as though a colony of fire ants ate their way out of his lungs, each breath painful, each breath a struggle. The next minute he'd be curled up in a ball, wings wrapped around himself, his body wracked with shivers. Time was meaningless as people drifted in and out of the room. The only constant was the small, cool hand pressed into his.
"Ninsianna?" he whispered. His tongue felt clumsy, as though it was filled with clay.
"Yes, mo ghrá?"
Her voice was rich and mellifluous as she spoke the endearment he'd always yearned to hear. Mo ghrá. Why had he never noticed how beautiful it felt to hear h
